Dream-Eater
by Isis Lied
Summary: "Do you believe in angels?" "...I believe in devils." Mephisto/Shura


Dream-Eater  
"Do you believe in angels?"  
"...I believe in devils." Mephisto/Shura

A/N: Heh, I ship all the crack pairings XD besides Amaimon/Shiemi, this is my second OTP for Blue Exorcist. It's just a shame that neither will probably happen u.u

Warning: Shura's potty mouth and the fact that Mephy is such a difficult character to write. I tried my best to keep them IC, even if this ship is pure crack :P

Disclaimer: Blue Exorcist— not mine, unfortunately. If so, the pairings above would be canon.

* * *

"_In thrall of those **fallen** from grace…"_

* * *

i. There are times in her sleep when the upper second-class exorcist can feel the feather-like touch of something (no— a certain someone) prying into her dreams. Normally, she lets her guard down, allows the demon to have his fill of entertainment. It's better than having to worry about the violet-haired man stealing into someone else's conscience.

Mephisto would mostly poke and prod into her dreams, a supposedly silent spectator to whatever event unfolded when her brain was on autopilot. Sure, he had changed a couple of her dreams for his own amusement (the red-head can distinctly remember a dream of flying pigs that the demon had suddenly modified to become flying green hamsters) but otherwise left her alone. And not that she'd ever openly admit it, but the demon's presence wasn't exactly unwanted. Never did he overstep his boundaries, playing both the perfect gentleman and the perfect devil.

What she found really unusual, however, was that he only ate her nightmares. Just before the fall into darkness or the blade cuts her down, the scene would disappear. It would be replaced with simpler dreams, usually disconnected in a linear order, in which she woke with only the vague notion of having dreamed at all.

It was nice... in a way. It was like having her own personal dream catcher. One night, however, she finds that the touches reached beyond the psychological level.

The exorcist had just finished writing up her report, an empty beer can in one hand and a pen in the other. After depositing the can in the trash and putting the pencil away, Shura slips into a lavender nightgown. Whispering a few more warding sutras (purposefully keeping them weak as to not deter her usual nighttime visitor), the girl eventually falls into a peaceful sleep.

Between conscience and sleep, she feels the tell-tale weight of something on her abdomen. It travels further until she is sure someone has their hand in her hair. The fingers run soothingly through her wild locks and for a moment she forgets why she's upset in the first place, lulled into complacency by the gentle motion.

There is a feeling of warmness against her neck and ear as she lies frozen under the sheets, paralyzed and unable to move.

"Good evening, Shura..." A familiar but smooth voice says, whispering into her ear.

"Ya stupid clown, get off of me! And stop screwing with my dreams!"

"Sorry, but this game is one I find quite entertaining. Besides... I don't think you really want me to leave." She can definitely feel his breath against her neck, hot puffs of air traversing her skin.

Shura focuses her mind, trying for the first time to push the demon out of her mind. Eventually, she can feel his hold on her slipping as she lets out a growl, whispering a mass of sutras in her head that would have most upper-level demons reeling.

Suddenly, the hands and warm breaths are gone, lavender eyes fluttering open. Tangled in the sheets, she thinks she sees the faint outline of the demon before he disappears into the darkness.

The girl lets out an annoyed sigh, raking a hand through her unruly locks.

"Damn it, Mephisto... just what the hell were ya tryin' to do?"

* * *

ii. He doesn't appear in her dreams the next night.

It is a welcomed respite she thinks, not having to feel the demon's presence in her sleep. While there is a small feeling of loneliness (not that she'd admit it) she tries not to think of the violet-haired devil who had watched over her dreams. Her sleep goes undisturbed for at least four days, until she has a nightmare.

Visions of a place filled with demons and monsters eat away at her as her child self runs through the darkness, sobbing. The red-headed child stumbles to the ground, turning to see a mass of demons behind her. Their collective shadows twist together to create a large darkened mass, towering over the small girl.

"Go away!" She cries out, curling into a ball. She places her hands on her ears, eyes squeezed shut as the monsters descend.

The groans and growls of the demons eventually fade to a dull whimper as a hand places itself comfortingly on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" A gentle voice questions. The girl expects to see the face of Shiro Fujimoto, the man who had saved her from that Hell. Instead, it is Mephisto, a forlorn look on his face. His forest green eyes are furrowed in worry, moving to stand in front of the child.

With a wave of his hand, the demons disappear, fading into the heavy black. "It's alright now, Shura. The monsters are gone."

* * *

iii. When she wakes, there are tears in her eyes. She furiously wipes them away, sitting up against the headboard of her bed. Her hand automatically flicks to the lamp at her side, illuminating a small patch of the room.

A chilling voice whispers from the darkness, "I hope you'll forgive me for intervening. Even if I am a demon, I don't like to see girls crying. Especially not someone as strong as you, Shura."

The woman turns to glare at the violet-haired man, face flushed pink from her tears. "Shut up, yer annoying. And get out of my room!"

Finally coming out of the shadows, she can see that the principal is in his second most usual attire, the white long-coat and pants standing out starkly in the dimming light. She notices that his trademark purple gloves are missing, allowing for her to see his long, black nails. He holds up his hands in a sign of peace, a large grin on his face.

"I will be taking my leave shortly. In the meantime, why don't I keep you company? We never really get the _time_ to talk." He laughs as if it is a joke, emphasizing the word time when he speaks.

"Sure, we can talk when you stop being such a damn clown! What do ya want, Mephisto? Yer not one to help someone out of the kindness of yer heart."

He chuckles again, moving closer to the lavender-eyed woman. He sits on the edge of the bed, smiling as the girl shoots him a deadly glare. The springs creak against his weight, folding his hands in his lap.

"Now, now, I'm serious. I am gaining nothing; I am but a _simple_ demon."

"Bullshit." Shura muttered, bringing the covers over her chest.

"Say, Shura... do you believe in angels?" He questioned suddenly, sitting in a way so she is unable to see his face, shaded by the flickering darkness.

"...I believe in devils." She retorts, flicking back her hair behind her shoulder.

There is silence. Slowly, he rises, grinning widely. "What a wonderful answer! Dear Shura, you are certainly an interesting human."

"Yer praise is great and all, but unlike you, I need more than an hour of sleep to function." She sighs, flopping back onto the bed.

"Ah, of course. My sincerest apologies. We can resume this discussion at a later time."

"What do ya mean 'later'?" She calls out, but the man is already gone, disappearing out the window in a flash of white and purple.

"What an idiot..." She mumbles, flicking off the lamp. _Even if you're a demon, this is the third floor._

* * *

iv. When she has to give her report to the violet-haired demon early next morning, she can't help but feel a little awkward.

For the most part, Mephisto had kept away from her more personal dreams, only interfering with dreams that were already too silly to take seriously or the stirrings of a typical nightmare. Now that he had seen something so personal, the lines she had placed between them were fading. Hell, she couldn't even really call him a friend before. Was he an acquaintance? A colleague? Or perhaps something more? Shura shook her head, fingers grasping the brass doorknob. He was an idiot, a nuisance, nothing more. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled the door open.

Mephisto is, of course, totally unabashed, ushering the woman into the room with a theatrical wave of his hand.

"Come in, come in~!" He sings, moving whatever papers he was working on before to the side of his desk.

Shura sighs, but obeys, closing the door behind her. "Alright, ya stupid clown, here's yer dumb reports. Can I leave now?" She questions after slamming the papers none too gently on his desk, turning towards the door.

"Wait just a moment, Shura-san. I think we have more to discuss." There is a hint of amusement in his voice as he motions for the woman to take a seat in front of his desk. She looks at him suspiciously but takes a seat anyway, red hair spilling across her shoulder as she moves to cross her legs.

"What do ya want now? Is invading my dreams not enough for ya?"

He chuckles lightly, folding his gloved hands. "Now, now, I am just curious… there is much I don't know about you, Shura. Yet, you hold such a high-ranking position in the Exorcist Order."

"If you think I'm gonna tell you anything than yer a bigger idiot than I thought." She moves to stand up, but Mephisto is suddenly at her side, a feline grin on his face. He places a hand on her shoulder, nearly chortling as the exorcist bristles, nearly stepping away from the demon.

"What the hell do ya want, Mephisto? I'm tired of yer stupid games."

"Ah, isn't that always the question? What do I want, you ask… well," He pauses to stare deep into her amethyst eyes, face void of emotion, "I want what all humans want: information."

She finally slaps his hand away, glaring darkly. "Don't give me that crap. You always have ulterior motives. If you didn't you wouldn't be Mephisto."

"I never said there weren't other… reasons." He states cryptically, green eyes boring into hers. He holds her gaze until he lets out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't cause too much trouble to tell you. Shura, do you know why sentient demons rarely sleep?"

She scoffs. "I thought it was just you who thought bags under their eyes were fashionable."

"If only. There is something demons themselves can never experience. It is purely human in its function, serving nothing but to further amusement. We demons cannot dream. We can create and destroy dreams, but to have them naturally and by ourselves, it is impossible. It is something… we lost." He states simply, a far-away look in his eyes. It quickly fades as he turns back to the woman, a grin on his face once more.

"So that's why you've been messing with my dreams for the past couple of weeks?"

He nods. "It is _one _of the reasons."

Suddenly there is a knock at his door. "Oh my, look at the time! As much as I've enjoyed our little chat, I must bid you ado. I have to greet some new exorcists who just transferred to the Japanese branch."

With that, Shura walks out of the office, feeling more confused than she did on her way in. Mephisto tended to be like that, a walking contradiction. Never easy to figure out, a puzzle made of white pieces. She sighed. Somehow, she felt that the demon's other reasons for invading her dreams wouldn't be so simple.

* * *

v. To her chagrin, the demon was back in her dreams the very same night.

She could feel his presence on the edge of her conscience, a pressure that while not unpleasant, was very noticeable. As her mind flitted through abstract colors and shapes, a certain image became clearer and more distinct.

There was at first only light. So much light that she couldn't see even a single shadow. It was warm and inviting and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to be lost in its caress. But, slowly, the light faded away, spots of darkness sneaking in. It was like a web of shadows, creeping in from the edges of her periphery until everything was shadowed in darkness. It was suffocating.

Then there was a feeling of falling, of loss, of _pain_. There was a searing pain in her back and eyes as she fell further and further down. The worst feeling was that of the emptiness once the fall finally ended, leaving her stuck in some forgotten, cursed place.

Stumbling through the heavy darkness, she felt something guiding her forward. A tiny, meager flame appeared in front of her as she found herself staring into the emerald eyes of a much younger looking Mephisto. He was huddled in a ball, clutching at his knees. She could see the trace of tears down his cheeks, blood pooling from his back and hands. And for a moment, she thought she saw a single white feather burn as it touched the ground. Just as she went to reach for the boy to comfort him, he faded away, leaving nothing in his wake.

(Not even a feather.)

The vision left the woman with only the feeling of emptiness. Somewhere, a voice whispered to her, cold and devoid of its usual cheeriness, "Perhaps we are more alike than you think, Shura…"

.

And maybe, just _maybe _the demon was trying to show her a piece of his past as well.

* * *

vi. Assiah was more of a home for him than Gehenna (or _that _place) ever was.

Free to play the charismatic devil, he took joy in every soul he squandered. But, even under the guise of emptiness, there was something missing. An emptiness he couldn't get rid of in his chest.

He frowned. There was no reason to show Shura what he was (what he _had _been). A sigh slipped past his lips. Perhaps the never-ending flow of time was getting to him. Despite being its master, there was a time he could never turn back to.

Younger demons had no recollection of the time _before_. And, he thought bitterly, they were probably better off. Not knowing what they had been, what they could have become. Folding his clawed hands, he tipped his head towards the window.

The moon was shining brightly through the curtains, illuminating the tired eyes of the demon. His thoughts shifted again to Shura, a darkness flickering across his eyes. _An intriguing human indeed…_

He wondered faintly if she believed in angels now but shook his head. It didn't matter. Because all the angels were dead anyway.

* * *

vii. His most hidden secret, you ask? Surely it didn't lie with the reason he had snuck into the exorcist's dreams to begin with. It was for amusement only, he argued with himself. There was nothing so ridiculous as a demon harboring affection for a human. It was almost as ridiculous as a demon wanting to become an angel again.

* * *

"_What will be left behind in the **ashes** of the wake?"_

* * *

A/N: Since Mephisto's been revealed as the demon king of Time and Space, I thought it would be only natural for him to mess with people's dreams XD Sorry it wasn't as fluffy/romantic as I wanted it to be; it turned out more like a friendship fic till the end ^^' And wow, I really hope I didn't butcher Mephisto's character... Ah, on another note, if you guys have any good Shiemi/Amaimon or Mephisto/Shura fics to recommend please tell me in a review or pm! I've been craving for these fics, lol. As usual, thanks again for taking the time to check out my little oneshot :3 Also, let me know if you guys would like a full length Shura/Mephisto fic cause I'm willing to write one if people are interested ^^

Oh, and the quotes are from a song called Hourglass by Lambs of God. I'm not a big fan of screamo, but the lyrics fit these two really well :)

**Review?**

-Isis


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